


The Gift

by unofficialsherlockian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unofficialsherlockian/pseuds/unofficialsherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas post the Return</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

I've already told you not to worry about it." Sherlock's deep voice purred from the sofa where he lay, still in pajamas and dressing gown, eyes closed.

'Sherlock, it's Christmas, I want to get you something.'

'Get Mrs Hudson or Molly something. Or even Lestrade.' He open his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. 'I don't want anything, I don't know what you could get me. Do you suspect we're the type of people to get each other gifts? Mrs Hudson and I exchange gifts. It will stay that way.'

'Yeah but you got me a bottle of wine last year,' John said accusingly.

'Better than the beer you normally keep.' Sherlock huffed quietly. 'It was a good vintage anyways.'

'Yeah I didn't know you knew about wine until then.' John chuckled. 'Didn't think it would merit space on the hard drive.' 

Sherlock shrugged and swung his feet over the side of the couch, standing fluidly. 'Shower,' he commented, as he walked past Joh through to the kitchen. 'Then I'm texting Lestrade. This Christmas thing better not have any baring on the amount of interesting crimes committed this week.'

'Something'll turn up,' John sighed. 'Try not to use all the hot water again,' he called after Sherlock's retreating form. He sighed, looking at the lights hung on the window outside and wondering what Christmas was to Sherlock that he would refuse gifts from everyone but Mrs Hudson.

There was a quiet knock on the door, signaling the arrival of the woman in question. Despite her hip, she always made the journey up the seventeen steps to see Sherlock and John, instead of sending down for one of them. 

'Hello Mrs Hudson,' John said warily, smiling.

'Hello dear. Have you decided on a gift for Sherlock yet?' she asked quietly, peering around into the kitchen quickly before fixing a look at John.

John shook his head. 'Still refusing all gifts. Won't tell me anything even hinting at something he'd want.' He sighed, his shoulders relaxing and he looked defeatedly at Mrs Hudson. 'Maybe I need a different approach...'

She smiled sweetly. 'He's been fretting about a gift for you, poor sod.' John gaped at her and she chuckled. 'Moaning about it yesterday. I don't think he thought I was listening, but I was. Decided I'd help him if you were sorted already. As he isn't helping...' 

John smiled. 'I'll figure something out-I think he will too.'

Mrs Hudson smiled knowingly and left the room. John's phone vibrated in his pocket and his fished it out, smiling relieved at Lestrade's name and the text Trying to get ahold of Sherlock for a case. Is he with you?

Showering. John typed back happily. Give me the address and we'll be right there.

'Remember you boys are helping set up the tree in my flat whenever you get the chance!' Mrs Hudson's voice sounded from halfway down the stairs.

'Lestrade texted. Your case came.' John smiled as Sherlock perked up as he wandered in, pulling a shirt on.

'Excellent,' Sherlock hissed happily. 'Did he say what it was?'

'Nope,' John answered, reading Lestrade's next text. 'Just gave me the address, though. And-' he grabbed Sherlock's hand to spin the man to face him again, his voice serious. 'We need to help Mrs H with her tree as soon as we've solved it. Alright?'

Sherlock huffed. 'I suppose she's just been up here reminding you,' he muttered. John nodded. 'Fine. But only because you're too short to really be of use.'

'Hey!' John mimed throwing his phone at the man and Sherlock grinned mischievously. 

 

'Are you getting him anything?' John asked Anderson as they stood apart from Sherlock, watching him work. 'He won't let me ask him what he wants.'

'What the hell would I be getting him?' Anderson looked at John, bewildered. 'It's not like I would be able to get him anything useful or that he would like, and any other gift would just be a stupid gesture.' He snorted. 'Have you ever thought that maybe he just doesn't want anything?'

'Yeah I just...you know, want to get him something,' John said lamely. Anderson looked ready to roll his eyes. 'Look he's been away two years and he's still my best mate...'

'Don't think you can get him anything if he doesn't want it,' Lestrade muttered, striding up to them. 'Sherlock needs a hand for a minute, Anderson.'

'Right.'

'I still want to,' John sighed. Lestrade shook his head. 'What are you getting him?'

'New gloves and magnifying glass' Lestrade said. John raised his eyebrows. 'What? He needs new gloves, and the glass I found suits him so...'

'Suppose I could just get him a sweater or something,' John muttered half-heartedly.

Lestrade looked at John. 'Believe me, I reckon he's perfectly happy without you buying him anything.'

 

In the end, John ended up getting his head smashed in with a plank of wood and having to watch Sherlock get tackled out of a window. Lestrade and he had both shouted in horror but ran down to find Sherlock grimly sitting on their culprit, having cracked two ribs and hurt his wrist.

'Can't you ever just be careful, you stupid idiot?' John shouted hoping it would keep his voice normal. After two years ago, the thought of Sherlock falling from any height was terrifying. 

'Apparently not,' Sherlock said, grimacing as he stood. 

'No, you're not moving while you're injured and you're going to a bloody hospital.'

'What if we settle for an ambulance and they can patch up your face and Sherlock's ribs and you two don't need to fight to the death over it,' Lestrade suggested, cuffing the man who lay on the ground.

Later that night found John and Sherlock decorating Mrs Hudson's tree that She'd managed to fit in their flat after John had bribed Sherlock to move the coffee table in his room for the time being.

'You know, I could always do it. You're gonna hurt your bloody ribs,' John said anxiously and Sherlock reached up to put the lights up, his face betraying signs of pain.

'No I've got it,' he gasped, stepping back from the tree and massaging his ribs.

Mrs Hudson walked in with three mugs of hot chocolate. 'Sherlock,' she scoffed. 'You should really listen to John.'

Sherlock didn't comment.

 

The next night Mrs Hudson gave them both boxes of her baking and demanded hugs from them both. John turned to Sherlock, who had a video camera pointed at him and Mrs hudson.

'What're you doing?' John asked, feeling ridiculous, but attempting to bat away the camera from pointing at him. 

'I'm filming the Christmas party tonight-the video and the camera are your gift.' Sherlock gave John a smile from behind the camera.

'Well, then, give it to Mrs Hudson for a second, I've got something for you.'

'John I told you not to--' Sherlock protested as Mrs Hudson gently took the camera from him and he sighed, making sure she was pointing it at him and John right. 

'Think he's camera shy,' Mrs Hudson whispered. Sherlock glared at her.

'well?' 

John wrapped the scarf around Sherlock's neck, smoothing it out carefully before pulling Sherlock into a gentle but tight hug. 'I'm glad you're home, Sherlock.'

Sherlock blinked, seeming speechless before Lestrade's voice sounded from downstairs. 'Mrs Hudson? John? Here with Anderson, Molly's apparently on her way!'

'Right,' John said, smiling at Sherlock as Sherlock took the camera from Mrs Hudson. 'And, no, you're letting me have that for at least some of tonight. If it's my camera and video, I want you to be in some of it.'

'Of course,' Sherlock said. 'That was the point.' John looked at him quizzically. And Sherlock sighed impatiently. 'You're bloody blog post, keep up.'

 

It was past midnight when John finally started looking through the footage of the party that night, Sherlock sleeping quietly on the sofa now that he was free from all cases.

It was him, looking surprised and Sherlock telling him that the camera was his gift, before he saw himself hugging Sherlock, the new scarf around his friend's neck.

There was Lestrade looking happily at the wine from him and Sherlock as he opened the box, and Mrs Hudson smiling and laughing with Molly and him; John couldn't remember what exactly they were talking about.

And then he heard Sherlock's voice as he saw his face on camera 'Here, take this. You need me in this more than I need you.'

And the rest was Sherlock smiling with Greg and Mrs Hudson, and Anderson and Sherlock making fun of John's camera work, and Molly asking him if he'd like a drink, and then Greg's steady hand showing Sherlock and John talking. 

Anderson elbowing Sherlock in his injured ribs and John nearly dropping the camera as Sherlock yelped; Mrs Hudson's face appeared worrying and Anderson had gone pale; Sherlock trying to smile it off saying 'I'm fine.'

There was Sherlock playing the violin and bowing and Mrs Hudson telling John he should've sang...

And at the end John sat back and looked across the room to his friend, fast asleep, and wondered if the man really cared alot more about John's blog then h'ed ever let on.

**Author's Note:**

> Little bit of a belated fic.  
> (deleted the earlier version-reposting it as a single chapter)
> 
> After the Christmas short, I had to put Anderson in.  
> Enjoy; happy holidays.


End file.
